The Demon Lover Sequel
by 3rYn
Summary: Sequel to the infamous The Demon Lover by Elizabeth Bowen... Mrs. Drover is kidnapped and taken to a shady house... what will happen to our beloved Mrs. Drover? Will she live or DIE


Alright my lovers whom I do not have... I wrote this in English class after reading The Demon Lover by Elizabeth Bowen as an assignment. My thoughts were: This is such a lame story... not scary at all... Imma write an fantastically chilling story... My teacher enjoyed it so much that copies were made and given to other teachers and read to all LA classes. I know, I know, I'm bragging but I just want 'yall to know and understand and forgive me for not making an appearance sooner haha. If you want to really appreciate my story then go read The Demon Lover by Elizabeth Bowen :D

*shoves story into your face and runs away*

...

The driver, unfazed by her screaming, faced forward once more and pressed on the accelerator. Taking off with a jolt the taxi flew through the streets just barely avoiding debris. To Mrs. Drover it felt as though they hit every possible bump and hole which tossed her around violently and slamming her against the back of the cab. It wasn't long until the taxi was on a smoother road. Surrounded by vacant houses not affected by the bombs but still wore the fear and melancholy expressions which spread to Mrs. Drover. Her fear intensified when she noticed the flash of metal below the passenger's seat.

She pulled on the handle but it gave no hint of movement. Resorting to hitting the glass with the parceled items her attempts only led to breaking the memories from her home. She clawed at the window as a final attempt to escape, but the only thing that became free was the blood from her fingers. Unknowingly she had clawed so desperately, so full of adrenaline that she did not realize she ripped her nails right off her fingers until she noticed the blood smeared down the window.

The driver chuckled at her attempts and commented with a hollow empty voice. "No need to struggle so much dear, all you had to do was ask." The click of a door unlocking sounded and Mrs. Drover flung open the door but paused in horror. At that very moment they were suspended hundreds of feet, speeding on the edge of a mountain. The taxi accomplished seemingly impossible turns on the narrow road and at points rode on two wheels. Mrs. Drover slammed the door closed and the door clicked once more to indicate it's been locked. "We are almost to our destination… think of it as an early honeymoon." The driver said with a smirk. "I know I will."

After what felt like hours to Mrs. Drover, the taxi finally came to an abrupt stop. Looking through the smeared window Mrs. Drover could make out a quaint cottage and pondered why they were here. Her thoughts were interrupted by the closing of the driver's door. Her door swung open and a pale cold hand gripped her arm.

The driver jerked her from the cab and led her to the cottage. Despite all her screaming and hitting the struggle became clear that it was pointless. His grip became tighter the more she pulled and he was ice cold. She was a strong woman but this man was the most tenacious creature she'd ever come across.

Upon entering the cottage the first thing Mrs. Drover noticed was the smell. The scent of mold, rotting wood, and a hint of metal infiltrated her senses. She choked on the stench and the fumes while looking around. It was truly a dark, dank room and from what she could see in the other rooms, they didn't fare much better. There were cobwebs in every possible corner. She could also hear the insects and vermin scurrying across the wood floor. There were no decorations or furnishings aside from the stacked chairs by the wall covered in plastic and the threadbare Persian by the mantle. There were stains on the boards and at the bottom of the wall that led to another room.

He pulled Mrs. Drover into a room and flung her across the room. She hit the wall with a loud thud, sending up dust and vacant webs into the air. He closed the door and the click of the door being locked reverberated throughout her room. As though in a trance she sat and listened to his footsteps fade away, then gasped for air after she realized she'd been holding her breath. Mrs. Drover stood up to better evaluate the room. There was a cot on the westernmost wall by the corner with a wool blanket. Upon further inspection she noticed more stains which she daren't touch. A bucket resided in the corner adjacent from the cot and a metal chair in the center of the room. Crossing the room to the chair she noticed that she could see her prints on the floor where she stepped. Mrs. Drover tried to lift the chair but discovered it bolted to the floor which she found rather queer. Her room was roughly nineteen paces in length and width. Once she was more au courant with her surroundings she started thinking about escaping.

The longer she was in that room the more paranoid she became. Even while pacing she jumped at any sound. While thinking about how to escape she noticed a feint light coming through a crack in the floor. Further inspection of the crack she found she could see into what looked like a cellar. Curious about where the light was coming from she saw something move. Her fiancé crossed the cellar holding something long that she couldn't make out. Closer to where the light was brightest she saw a hand lying in a crimson pool. Then realized there were other crimson pools with various body parts lying in their blood. She pulled away quickly to avoid vomiting and she thought about what was going to happen to her.

Her door clicked and opened with her fiancé in the doorway. He picked her up and headed down the cellar steps. Once in the center of the cellar he sat her down on a chair. He pulled another chair up to her so he could sit down and face her. His unblinking eyes stared into hers sending more fear down Mrs. Drover's spine. He had the saddest facial expression she'd seen and obvious pain when he looked at her.

"There will always be pain in love and you have hurt me. Did you know you broke your promise? I went off to war and you went and got married to someone else instead of waiting. I feel different now. I feel cold like a razor blade, empty, missing something. You missed our anniversary… did you know that? For a while I tried to find the thing that completed me… something to fill this void in my chest. I tried many things… murder is one but I still can't find my antidote. I hope you are my antidote but all I feel is rage towards you. You didn't even remember what I looked like!" He screamed and then slapped her face. "I've decided that the only thing that should put me to rest is to put you through pain; a lot of pain which you deserve!" He picked up a knife and cried out. "You have failed me again, but this is the last time!" The knife went into her abdominal area slowly. Mrs. Drover screamed and was in so much pain she couldn't speak. "Does that hurt you my dear? No? I didn't hear you say it hurt. I'll continue then." He said with a monotone voice and twisted the knife while it was still inside her. He pulled it out and rage began to warp his face. Suddenly he stabbed her repeatedly in the abdominal area careful to not hit her liver. She was close to death around the twentieth stab but he did not want her to die yet. Her eyes begged for him to finish her off, to end the incredible agony she was in. "No, I don't feel complete yet… something is missing… perhaps more pain?" He inquired. He grabbed her arm and began to skin her alive. He treated her like an animal he'd killed on a hunting trip and enjoyed watching her hurt.

Mrs. Drover had never felt such pain in her entire life and began to believe it really was her fault this happened. When she finally died her fiancé threw the knife across the cellar, for he did not fill his void and no longer knew how. He is still sure that if she had been in more pain he would be released.

Mrs. Drover's spirit rose from her body but cannot rest because she believes it is her fault that all of this happened. Now every night her fiancé wanders around looking for something to fill his void and Mrs. Drover is locked up in her room. Once a month three days after their anniversary he kills Mrs. Drover. Her screams can be heard miles around and if you happen to be in the cellar during her murder chances are you'll become a new stain on the floor.


End file.
